


Party Favour

by ApocalypseThen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Banter, F/F, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda Lawson and Ashley Williams both had the pleasure of dating Shepard. Now that they're firmly in the friend-zone, they figure out where they went wrong and where things go from here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Party Favour

“Thanks for inviting me, Shepard,” said Miranda. She folded herself gracefully into the space next to Shepard. She crossed her legs and rested her elbow on the back of the sofa, presenting her assets. “It's been too long since I had a chance to blow off some steam.”

Shepard laughed. “You? Relax?” she teased. “I thought you'd never run out of things to get annoyed about.”

“That's not fair,” Miranda protested gamely. “Well, not entirely. Once I got over my daddy issues everything else just seemed to be a bit less of a bother.”

“Well I wasn't going to say anything, but since you bring it up...” replied Shepard.

“Oh, stop!” Miranda grinned. Her hand toyed idly with a frond of Shepard's hair. “I've missed you,” she said. “The little talks we used to have.”

Shepard looked away and coughed. Her cheeks flushed a little. “Sure,” she replied. “But... Ashley! Hey.”

Ashley offered each of them a beer. Miranda declined with a wave of her hand but Shepard accepted and immediately took a long pull. “This seat taken?” Ashley asked. She plonked herself down on the other side of Shepard. “Great party, skipper,” she said, clinking her bottle against Shepard's.

“Thanks, Ash,” said Shepard. “You know Miranda, right?”

“Only by reputation, actually,” replied Ashley. “It took some balls to leave Cerberus,” she told Miranda.

“You have no idea,” said Miranda. She looked across Shepard at Ashley. Her expression was a challenge.

“Don't mind Miranda,” said Shepard. “She's a pussy-cat once she gets to know you.”

“I'm sure,” Ashley said. “Claws and all. Rrrr!” She made a claw of her hand and menaced Shepard with it briefly. Then she giggled and slumped on the sofa, resting her head on Shepard's shoulder. “So many of the old crew here,” she said. “The mission was simpler back then, eh, boss?”

“It sure was.” Shepard fidgeted between the two women. “Uh, so, I've just got to go check on the other guests,” she said. She rose quickly, causing both women to recoil a little. “You two play nice.”

“Hurry back,” said Miranda, looking Shepard in the eye and making her blush again. Miranda turned her attention to Ashley as Shepard disappeared into the kitchen. “Thanks for that,” she told Ashley.

Ashley sat up a little straighter from her slump. “For what?” she asked innocently.

“For being such a good little cock-blocker,” replied Miranda. She emphasised her point with a delicate prod to Ashley's shoulder.

Ashley's face flickered between outrage and surprise.

“Don't leave your mouth hanging open like that, soldier, it's undignified,” said Miranda.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” said Ashley. “That exp...” She folded her arms and clammed up. “So you were dating. While she was with Cerberus.”

“Oh, not just a pretty face.” Miranda's condescension was palpable. “Go on. You were about to say: 'that explains why she hasn't come back to me', hmm?”

“Now how in the hell could you know a thing like that?” said Ashley. She sounded more hurt than angry.

“Oh, don't get upset,” said Miranda. “You can't blame her, can you? I mean, look at me.”

Ashley's eyes widened as she did just that. “Of all the stuck-up...” But she quieted again as she saw past Miranda into the kitchen. She smirked and nodded in that direction. “Check it out.”

Shepard was deep in animated conversation with a short, dark, uniformed marine. All curves and angelic features, glowing through the uniform. The shorter girl had her fingers resting lightly on the inside of Shepard's bare elbow. Shepard's attention was totally focused.

Miranda deflated abruptly. “Bloody hell,” she said in a resigned voice. “I should have known it would be something like that. I'll have that beer now, please.” She took a swig from the bottle. “Eugh! What is this piss?”

“Canadian?” said Ashley. “I found an importer down in the wards.”

Miranda studied the label. “Must have been expensive. And Shepard didn't even notice. You poor thing.”

“Funny, I never would have guessed 'sarcastic bitch' was her type,” Ashley sniped back.

Miranda swept the hair out of her face. “Oh, so you do have some backbone after all.” She touched her bottle to Ashley's. “The one that got away,” she said, looking into Ashley's eyes.

Ashley reddened a little under Miranda's sultry gaze. “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath. “Sure. To Shepard. Ah hell, I can't look.”

Shepard was chatting to Garrus, holding her current girlfriend casually in front of her, one arm draped loosely around her. The short, dark girl was utterly at home in the crook of Shepard's arm, radiating a thousand watts of smugness in every direction. She might as well have been screaming it from the rooftops.

“Ugh,” said Miranda, turning away. “If there's one thing I can't stand it's a shrimp who thinks she can top from the bottom.”

Ashley was surprised. “Say what? Shepard could crush her like a bug. Sweet cheeks and all.”

“Oh my god,” said Miranda. “I've misjudged you, Ashley.”

“Well, thanks, I think...”

“No, no, soldier,” explained Miranda. She used the outside of the hand that was holding her beer to gently stroke Ashley's shoulder. “You and Shepard. She was on top, hmm?”

Ashley couldn't meet Miranda's eye. “No. Well, I guess. Yeah. She's not even as strong as me, but... I don't know. What's wrong with that, anyway? She's a damn hero.”

“Stronger than Shepard, eh?” Miranda had a faraway look in her eyes. “And who do you think called the shots when she and I had our fling?”

“I don't know, His Illusiveness, maybe?” replied Ashley flippantly.

“He wasn't much for mixing business with pleasure,” said Miranda. “No, I think I understand what this horror show means, now.” She gestured with her bottle to where Shepard was entertaining a circle of admirers, her partner front and centre.

“By all means, stop teasing,” said Ashley. She sat back in her seat.

“Shepard took some breaking in, with me,” Miranda confessed. “We didn't see eye-to-eye. She likes to be active. You've seen that, no doubt. Her hands go everywhere, she wants to be tasting everything. She needs a bit of guidance.”

A flush was creeping up from Ashley's collar. “Jeez, is it hot in here? Maybe I should get another drink.”

“Stay right where you are,” Miranda told her. Ashley froze midway into leaning forward. “It was a lot of trouble to train that reflex into her,” Miranda smirked. “But you seem to have picked it up right away. That's very good.”

“Oh, screw you,” said Ashley. She folded her arms defensively and sat back.

“Only if you ask nicely,” replied Miranda. “And I suppose you didn't give her enough feedback to make her feel like you were a challenge. Now she's with that... child. And it's our fault.”

“That's a very interesting theory.” Ashley uncrossed her arms. “By which I mean, dumb. Shepard moved on. Now we have to, too.”

Miranda smiled lopsidedly. “What's that over there?” she asked, pointing over towards the large picture window.

Ashley spent a few seconds looking. “What? I don't see anything.”

“Nothing, never mind.” Miranda extended one finger from the neck of her bottle. “What does this smell like?” she asked.

“I don't know, beer?” hazarded Ashley.

“My finger,” Miranda repeated. She passed the bottle to her other hand, leaving the digit extended. It was a little bit wet at the tip. “Smell it.”

“You're... ah... being kind of weird, Miranda,” said Ashley.

“Come on, soldier, it's a party, not a meeting with the Council.” She waved her finger under Ashley's nose.

Ashley went cross-eyed trying to keep the finger in her sights. “OK, OK, just quit waving it around!” She took a sniff. “Oh, hey. Wow. Pistachio? I guess? And maybe some... vanilla? So, you moisturise? You could have just told me.”

Miranda withdrew and took up her beer again. She drank and licked her lips. “That's me. That's a hundred percent concentrated Lawson. Genetically engineered to look, smell and taste good. Nobody bloody well 'moves on'.”

Ashley leaned away from Miranda. “Wait, where did you put that finger while I was staring out the window? Eww. Miranda. Come on.” She was quiet for a moment. “So, uh...?”

“I can't stand ice-cream,” Miranda said, deadpan, as if she'd had this conversation many times before. “And you can keep your bloody baked goods to yourself.”

Ashley laughed briefly, and relaxed again. “OK, OK, so you're hot stuff. Shepard's an ass. Is that what you want to hear?”

“It helps,” Miranda admitted. “So...” She patted Ashley's thigh. “who picked out your outfit?”

A dark expression crossed Ashley's features. “God, don't remind me. Some days I wish I could just pull on sloppies like everyone else. Damn Alliance PR machine.”

“Oh, I see,” said Miranda. “With Shepard out of action they pushed you forward as the next best thing. Well, you do fill it out rather well.”

“Thanks? I guess? It's just so... snug.” Ashley pinched a wad of fabric out from her thigh. It sprang back without creasing, smooth against her flesh. “And I can't run for shit in these heels.”

“They should have come to me,” said Miranda. “I'd have picked something that shows you off properly.”

“Yeah, I don't think I could pull off your look,” said Ashley. “No offence.”

“Oh, none taken.” Miranda placed a warm hand on Ashley's taut belly. Ashley jolted, but had nowhere to run. “I was thinking of something to show off those muscles you seem so proud of. Something a little bit more... confining.”

Ashley's face was turning a fetching shade of pink. “Uh, so, it's been nice getting to know you and all...”

“Stay,” said Miranda, more a command than an entreaty. “You know, I think my self-confidence has been shaken. That's not a pleasant experience for me. So you're going to help me get it back, Ashley.”

Ashley's abdominal muscles were spasming under Miranda's hand. “H... how?” she asked.

Miranda finally closed the gap between them on the sofa. She whispered into Ashley's ear as she let her hand start to roam over her stomach. “I'm going to fingerfuck you now.”

“What? No,” Ashley protested weakly. 

“Very much yes.” Miranda's hot breath tickled Ashley's ear, her lips brushed the earlobe delicately. Miranda dropped one hand to the nape of Ashley's neck and entwined her fingers in the fine down there.

Ashley started to hyperventilate.

“Shh, shh,” Miranda whispered. “Don't panic, soldier. Just follow orders. Hands behind your back.” She took Ashley's unresisting wrists one at a time and guided them to where she wanted them. “I want you to feel nicely... restrained.”

“I don't think...” Ashley said.

“No, you don't,” said Miranda. “You just react. You just feel. You just do as you're told.” She traced her finger down from Ashley's belly, using the lightest of touches, all the way between her legs.

Ashley bit down on a small cry. “No, people are... oh god!” The breath left her lungs.

Miranda finished nibbling on Ashley's earlobe. “Let them. Look at me. I'm all there is in your world. And I'm going to make you cream your pants.” She fumbled at the opening to Ashley's trousers, undoing just enough to gain access for her hand.

Ashley gasped. “Shepard...”

“Yes, I do hope Shepard sees this,” said Miranda. “What she's passing up. She's not quite the submissive you are, of course. But still. It could have been her, squirming around my hand. Stop that, by the way.”

Ashley stopped trying to work her ass deeper into the sofa to escape Miranda's hand. Her thighs trembled with the strain of keeping still.

“It could have been her, begging me to let her come,” Miranda continued. She curled her fingers and slid a long pair inside Ashley, reserving her thumb for clit duty. Held tight by the stretchy trousers, her fingers pushed deep inside with ease.

“Won't,” Ashley managed. “Beg.”

“Don't be so sure,” said Miranda. “I love soldiers. All the conditioning's already done for me. All that jumping,” she jerked her fingers upward roughly, “to attention. All those sharp,” she twisted her fingers and pressed down with her thumb, “salutes.”

Ashley keened and wheezed. Her face was contorted in what looked like agony. Tears streamed down her cheeks. But her eyes were locked on Miranda's lips.

“You love knowing your place,” said Miranda. “She could never give that to you, because she's just like you are, deep,” she pushed her fingers in, “down.” She used the tips of her fingers to palpate the spongy mass up near Ashley's pelvic bone.

Ashley's voice was very small. “Oh,” was all she could say.

“You're going to come in my hand very soon, Ashley,” said Miranda. “And then I'll have you eating out of it.”

\--------------------------

Shepard held Samantha loosely to her chest. They'd been inseparable all evening, unable to stop touching each other.

“Uh, I think one of your exes is making the other one cry?” said Samantha. “Do you think they're talking about you? They're probably talking about you. You should go over there.”

“And say what?” Shepard replied. “Miranda already knows she's a bitch, and Ashley wouldn't appreciate me fighting her battles.”

“Oh fuck!” screamed Ashley. Heads turned. “Bitch! Fucking bitch!” Ashley buried her head in Miranda's shoulder and sobbed. 

Miranda put a possessive arm around Ashley and glanced around triumphantly. The stunned revellers recovered enough to provide a round of applause and whistles of approval.

“On second thoughts, I think you should leave them alone,” Samantha said.

“I think that would be for the best,” Shepard agreed with a little shudder. “Although...”

“Shepard,” said Samantha sternly.

“Yes, ma'am.”


End file.
